Hello, and welcome to the 'SPOTLIGHTING THE SHADOW' Blog Tour. My name is Rhani D'Chae, and I am the author of Shadow of the Drill, a
revenge thriller. Shadow is my first published novel and has been on Amazon for about nine months. During that time I connected with Rave Reviews Book Club,
and have been overwhelmed by the support that I, as a fledgling author, have received from them. They're an awesome group of people and I'm so glad that I connected with them.
of the Drill is the story of a man (Decker), whose life was drastically altered by a random act of violence that tore his world apart and changed him from an unproven young street tough into a man on a mission of revenge. Please enjoy my "URP"
A writer's mind is always on, spotting potential characters and plot lines in every day activities and personal interactions. Therefore, a day in the life of a writer is often filled with
magic; with the creation of worlds, the laying of roads to be traveled, and the intimate dance between writer and character that will (hopefully) leave a reader reluctantly closing the cover and desperately wanting more.
I've had a few of those days, but I wanted to share a day from my past that was not quite so…noble. The one that my roommate, my son, and I will always remember as 'Urp day'.
years ago, I decided to self publish my first novel in paperback, and they foolishly agreed to help me, regretting their offer almost immediately. To this day, my roomie practically breaks out in hives whenever that little project is mentioned, while my son
refuses to discuss it at all.
The text had already been formatted, so on that day it needed only to be printed and handed over to my two-person assembly crew, whose
job was to cut the pages and assemble the individual books.
I usually tried to start each day with a devout prayer to the printer gods, because no one had bothered to tell my Laserjet
that it was a new machine and consequently, should not jam. As a result, if I didn't do at least one brisk skip around my computer area while clapping my hands and singing a few off-key lines of Take on me, I was sure to spend the rest of the
day picking torn bits of paper from the bowels of my printer with a pair of eyebrow tweezers. I invented a whole new range of profanities before the printing phase was done, let me tell you.
that day, I was at the computer, doing last minute touch-ups to the text before clicking print, and my minions were in the living room, cutting the pages and laying the books out in rows of five. We were running behind schedule, and I had forgone
my printer dance, thinking that it couldn't possibly matter. And it probably didn't. I just know that by noon I'd had half a dozen paper jams, the last of them requiring a trip to the printer doc for a minor procedure called a cash transplant, in which twenty-five
dollars was removed from my pocket and inserted into his. I wish that I'd had a camera that day so that I could have immortalized the ineptitude in action that resulted from two tired old fat girls and one idiot boy trying to load a bulky, oversized machine
that weighed about at much as the average Volkswagon into a back seat that had not been designed to hold anything larger than a six-pack.
Home again, I picked up where I'd left off, printing
about fifty pages at a time so as not to get too far ahead of my worker bees. They were beginning to mumble some sort of foolishness about 'lunch' but I wasn't listening. The printer was working without too many complaints, and I wanted to keep going as long
as it would let me.
About that time, my cat decided to jump onto my lap. I don't know how many of you have typed around a cat, but it requires the ability to type your own text while simultaneously
correcting the cat's attempts to help, which Silme' did by either walking or laying on the keyboard. I moved him away three or four times, set him on the floor at least twice, and finally gave him a ball that could be opened and filled with nip. How was I
to know that the little addict would pry open the ball and eat every bit of the product inside? He was gone for a bit, and I thought that he'd been adequately distracted. Suddenly, he fell from the ceiling, as cats often do, and landed on top of the monitor
enclosure. I should have seen the combination of his glazed eyes and the cobra-like sway of his body for the warning that it was, but I was focused on my book and nothing else was registering. I did hear my roomie say the he looked a little goofy, but by then
it was too late.
A little vomit on top of the enclosure would have been a small thing; a paper towel would have made it a memory in less than a minute. But Silme' never did anything 'small'.
He projectile vomited a mixture of partially digested food and the contents of one fully packed nip ball, directly onto my keyboard. "Urp" day was born, and the work day came to a very abrupt end.
Thank you all so much for allowing me to share a bit of my journey with you today. To follow the rest of my tour, please visit4WillsPublishing.
Julie, you were a great host and thank you so much for having me!
D. CHAE has always been an avid reader. She enjoys chatting with readers and fellow writers via social networking sites and loves getting comments and other input from those who have read her work. So, please don't leave without sharing